


Text Me (Save Me)

by thanks_for_the_existential_crisis



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Author is gay and sleep deprived, Explicit Language, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Its a no no kids, Its gay in here, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Possibly out of character but do I care? Not a bit, Profanity, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Texting, There is bad language, Worth It, don't do drugs kids, kind of, mentions of injury, two gays in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:38:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanks_for_the_existential_crisis/pseuds/thanks_for_the_existential_crisis
Summary: Matt is gay for Foggy, Foggy is gay for Matt, and they end up gay for each other together.





	Text Me (Save Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Its gay, its slightly angsty, and it warms my heart. Enjoy. 
> 
> Warnings for mentions of minor injuries, self-hatred, and alcoholism.
> 
> "When the messages came at three in the morning, whether they were based in simple insomnia or if he had spent the past two hours doing everything in his power to drown himself in whatever cheap liquor he could get his hands on, he knew...So he always left his phone on full volume and never let the lack of sleep bother him."

     He could always tell. Somehow he just knew. When the messages came at three in the morning, whether they were based in simple insomnia or if he had spent the past two hours doing everything in his power to drown himself in whatever cheap liquor he could get his hands on, he knew. His knowledge was never based in grammar or a sudden lack of punctuation. Drunk or not the grammar was pristine, the punctuation perfect. Something about the tone always just seemed so obvious. And on nights, such as this one, when the messages started coming in at one instead of three he knew that there was a bottle on the table in front of him and he was itching to grab it and forego the cup. So he always left his phone on full volume and never let the lack of sleep bother him.

Matt: 'I don't know what to do.'                

'What's up buddy? Do about what?'

Matt: 'I fucking hate feelings.'

     When the profanity started he just _knew_ that he was moments away from throwing the bottle at a wall and ending up in the ER getting stitches that would leave him miserable and frustrated until he managed to stop popping them long enough for the cut to heal.

'What are you feeling? Anything I can do to help?'  
  
Matt: 'You do more than enough just putting up with this shit instead of muting your phone and sleeping.'  
  
'I don't mind. Keeps life interesting. :) Gonna tell me what's happening?'  
  
Matt: 'I fucking hate listening to this thing read out those damn faces you keep sending me.'

'Which would be half the reason I send them. Now tell me what's going on please?'  
  
     Ever since the first time he had seen the hilariously horrified look on his face when someone sent an emoji to him he had been using them because that face always meant he enjoyed something and was disgruntled by his liking it.  
  
Matt: 'I've known you for more than three years and at some point I fell in love but I have no goddamn clue when or how. I shouldn't be capable of ruining someone by feeling this way about them. What kind of shitty universe allows a person to be so fucked over? I want to keep your friendship but I just fucking couldn't not say anything so if you're completely disgusted just let me know and I'll forget your number I guess.'  
  
'Matt you fucking self-deprecating nerd I love you too. How could I not?'  
  
Matt: 'By simply using the incredible intelligence God gifted you with?'

'Well if God is up there and he's gifting me with things I would rather have you than use my "incredible intelligence" so send up a good word for me yeah?'  
  
     When ten minutes passed with no reply he could tell that Matt was replaying the message because he couldn't believe his own ears. He'd seen him do it countless times but nearly everytime he's asked about it he responds that he "can't believe that level of stupidity exists." What that really means, he knows, is "I can't believe how happy this has made me" or "This hurts so much I want it to not be true." He finds himself hoping its the first or at least if its the second that its a good hurt. The kind of hurt Matt experiences when he's so unused to the warmth that people can sometimes fill him.

Matt: 'That's not a typo?'

'No, its not.' 

Matt: 'Can I come over?'  
  
     Matt's never asked that before. No matter how much he knew that Matt wanted company. That he wanted with every part of himself to not be alone, he's never asked if he could come over or if he would come to his place. Never allowed himself the comfort that human contact would bring.

'Yeah. Please do.'  
  
     He feels a shift in his being. A vital part of himself moving into place finally after so long being disjointed. The warmth he feels in his soul is the kind that only Matt has ever been able to bring him and he will never understand how such a perfect man who dislikes himself so much can manage to complete his life so beautifully and not ever realize. He promises himself that he will tell him evey chance he gets until he believes it.   
  
 Matt: 'Thanks Foggy.'  
  
     A few minutes later he smiles because he knows that Matt has that adorably scrunched look on his face that means he already regrets doing it but he's going to go through with it anyways as he sends a second message.  
  
Matt: '<3'


End file.
